Miss Saigon
Three Stars
IT must have been fate that led us to Miss Saigon that first time, last summer. We’d whiled away some pleasurable hours at the Metropolitan Museum before scouring the locale for a good place to eat. When we finally walked in to Miss Saigon, we spotted two acquaintances we had bumped into earlier in the afternoon. One of them worked at the museum and said she was a regular there.
We knew we’d come to the right spot.
Since then I’ve hustled back to the dependable Upper East Side eatery several times – whenever I’m nearby and Vietnamese food cravings strike.
Tonight, though, is the maiden voyage at the West Side outpost on Columbus Avenue. This second Miss proves to be a hit, too.
The menu is so long that ordering becomes a delightful cerebral exercise: “Almost too many choices,” says my friend, noting that many of the dishes are standard-issue Vietnamese fare. But then there’s the frog section. And the blackboard of specials. Decisions, decisions.
Our waiter is cheerful and patient. He brings the appetizers we’re sharing one at a time to the table, each to be savored before the next. Summer rolls are aptly named, a fresh-flavored light mix of big chunks of sweet shrimp, vermicelli and a good dose of cilantro in a barely there wrapper. They’re practically weightless. Dipped in the brown peanut sauce, they are delicious.
The Vietnamese chicken salad would have benefited from moister poultry slivers. Tom hoa tien, large batter-fried stuffed shrimp, arrive nice and hot, with a gratifying crunch.
The bun dishes are always a bargain at around $8, and a treat; rice noodles mixed with various bits of grilled meat, shrimp or sauteed vegetables, sprouts, herbs and peanuts. But tonight our trio is in an oceanic mood. Our three dishes – a seafood sampler, sauteed squid and jumbo shrimp – are loaded with glistening, colorful vegetables that look stunning on black plates. Among them are authentic, tasty additions such as slim Asian string beans, lotus root rounds and little Vietnamese eggplants full of tiny seeds that cause a minor explosion in the mouth.
Sweet, salty, herby, citrus … so many flavors and textures almost lure us into overeating. We don’t. Instead we save room to split one dessert. What our server calls banana pie is really a warm bread pudding topped with ultra-dense homemade banana ice cream sprinkled with toasted sesame seeds. It’s a winner.
The decor here might be playfully reminiscent of Trader Vic’s with its bamboo walls and grass-hut bar theme, but when it comes to the food, thankfully there are no gimmicks.